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Have you ever noticed how often we celebrate Moses as the hero of Exodus, while overlooking the remarkable women who repeatedly saved his life? Without their courage, cleverness, and determination, Moses would never have had the chance to say "yes" to God's invitation to liberate the Israelites. Their stories reveal a profound truth about faith: we were created to be together, to support one another, and to stand against oppression. Created for Community, Not Solo ActsLast week, exploring Adam and Eve's story, I was reminded that "it is not good that the man should be alone" (Genesis 2:18). This reveals an essential truth about how God made us: we were created to be together. Human life was never meant to be a solo act. Despite our culture's myth that elevates individual self-sufficiency, we know better: we are made for each other. As Paul writes in Galatians 6:2, we are called to "bear one another's burdens, and in so doing fulfill the law of Christ." This communal reality is powerfully demonstrated in the women who ensured Moses' survival. The First Act of Civil DisobedienceThe story begins with Shiprah and Puah, the Hebrew midwives who provide the first Biblical example of non-violent protest. They defied Pharaoh's explicit command to murder Hebrew baby boys, choosing "not to obey in advance" and instead organizing the Hebrew midwives to subvert Pharaoh's murderous edict. Their civil disobedience created the possibility for Moses to be born at all. A Mother's Desperate CourageThanks to these midwives, a young boy named Moses was born to Jochebed. As Wilda Gafney notes, "Jochebed became an agent of resistance [for] the very decision to give birth was an act of defiance." When she could no longer hide her son, she crafted a papyrus basket and set him afloat on the Nile. But she didn't leave her son's life entirely to chance – she worked with Moses' older sister, Miriam, to keep watch over him. Divine Irony at the River's EdgeIn a delightfully ironic turn, Pharaoh's own daughter discovers the basket! Instead of reporting the Hebrew child, "she took pity on him" (Exodus 2:6). Miriam seizes the opportunity, suggesting Jochebed as a nurse for the baby. So during Moses' early years, not only has Pharaoh's murderous plan been thwarted, but he is now paying a Hebrew woman to care for her own Hebrew son! This is subversive humor at its best—portraying an authoritarian ruler as hilariously inept. Zipporah: The Woman Who Saved Moses from GodAfter Moses fled Egypt and settled in Midian, he married Zipporah, who would later save his life in one of the most bizarre divine encounters in the Old Testament. As Moses journeyed back to Egypt with his family, "the Lord met him and tried to kill him" (Exodus 4:24). Zipporah's intuition kicked in, and she suspected God's anger was because their son wasn't circumcised. She grabbed a flint knife, performed the circumcision, and touched the foreskin to Moses' "feet" (a Hebrew euphemism often referring to genitalia). As Lynn Japinga says, "Zipporah was a gutsy woman with nerves of steel who could perform emergency surgery on her son without losing her lunch...Zipporah served as a mediator between God and Moses just as Moses would serve as a mediator between God and the Israelites." Living Their Legacy TodayThese women's stories of perseverance and bravery provide a blueprint for how to live in these challenging times. Their individual contributions remind us that small acts of courage truly make a difference: PUTTING IT INTO PRACTICE
Have you ever been so certain about something you've known your whole life, only to discover it was never true? Like how we collectively remember Darth Vader saying, "Luke, I am your father," when he actually said, "No, I am your father." This phenomenon, known as the Mandela Effect, doesn't just apply to pop culture—it profoundly affects how we understand some of our most sacred texts, particularly the story of the Garden of Eden.
The Misconceptions We've Inherited When it comes to Genesis 2 and 3, "we often project our own 'baggage' onto the text, either knowingly or unknowingly." Let's examine some of these misconceptions:
Eden: God's Vision of Mutual Relationship If this text isn't about women's inferiority or original sin as commonly taught, what is it about? One of our Bible study participants offered this beautiful insight: "Eden was God's ideal so far as they understood it [when these texts were first imagined]." Eden represents "a place where there was no shame, where there were no pointed fingers, where there were no accusations or blame games or fighting over resources. Eden was a place of peace, harmony, and mutual relationships." From "I" to "We": The Path Back to Eden One of the most revealing moments in Genesis 3 comes after Adam and Eve eat the fruit. When God calls out, "Where are you?" Adam replies, "I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself" (Genesis 3:10). Notice the language: "No 'we.' No 'us.' Just 'I.'" This shift from community to individualism Marks our departure from Eden. "You and I have to find a way, as a church, as a community, as a nation, to leave 'I' and 'me' behind and get back to 'us' and 'we.' That's how we get back to Eden. That's how we accept Jesus' invitation to the Kingdom of Heaven." God's "Nevertheless" Even as humanity chose separation, God's providence continued. After Adam and Eve's transgression, "God nevertheless lovingly crafted garments for them to wear" (Genesis 3:21). This small detail reveals God's enduring care—what I call God's "nevertheless." Despite our failures, God continues to provide. Putting It Into Practice: Finding Our Way Back These ancient texts, "when liberated from centuries of patriarchal projection, reveal something revolutionary: relationships of mutuality rather than domination were God's original design." The Eden narrative isn't primarily about blame or punishment but about explaining humanity's condition while pointing toward God's ideal. So how do we apply this understanding?
Have you ever felt invisible, forgotten, or cast aside? In a world that often overlooks the marginalized, there's a powerful story in the Bible that reminds us of a God who sees everyone, especially those society ignores. Let's explore the remarkable tale of Hagar, a woman whose encounter with God challenges our assumptions and offers hope to the forgotten.
The Power of Names Names carry immense significance in the Bible. They're not just labels; they're vehicles of meaning and identity. In our sermon series on women in the Old Testament, we encounter Hagar, whose very name speaks volumes: "Hagar's name is, as Old Testament scholar Wilda Gafney puts it, more epithet than name. 'Ha-gar' means 'the alien.' Hagar, therefore, is the 'other.' Hagar is the undocumented immigrant. Hagar is the uninsured single mother. Hagar is the trans person who avoids traveling to certain parts of the United States because of the hateful rhetoric directed at them and others like them. Hagar is the lost, forgotten, and abused. Hagar is 'the least of these' that Jesus spoke so frequently of." In a world quick to dehumanize those we don't understand, Hagar's story reminds us of the importance of recognizing each person's inherent dignity. God Sees the Invisible The heart of Hagar's story lies in her encounters with God. Twice, when she finds herself in desperate situations, God intervenes. What's remarkable is how God addresses her: "'Hagar,' the Lord calls out to her in a moment of terror and desperation, 'Hagar....' You see, Hagar had fled the anger of her owner. The text tells us that the reason for Sarah's wrath was that Hagar looked upon her with 'contempt.'" In a narrative where even her owners, Abraham and Sarah, refuse to use her name, God calls Hagar by name. This simple act of recognition carries profound meaning. It tells us that no matter how invisible we may feel, God sees us. The Woman Who Named God But Hagar's story doesn't stop there. In an unprecedented moment, Hagar does something no one else in Scripture does: "Hagar gives God a name. In all of scripture, it is God who does the naming. God names the earthling 'Adam' and his companion 'Eve.' God renames Saul as Paul and Simon as Peter. You see, naming someone was thought of as having authority and dominion over them... If God reveals God's name, it's always on God's terms and God's terms alone! As such, no one names God. Except, that is, a woman by the name of Hagar." Hagar calls God "El-roi," which means "the God who sees me." This name encapsulates the heart of Hagar's experience with God - a divine being who notices and cares for those society overlooks. The God of the Marginalized Hagar's story speaks powerfully to our current social and political climate. In a world where people are often dehumanized and marginalized, Hagar's experience reminds us of an essential truth: "The story of Hagar conveys this truth about God: God is, first and foremost, on the side of the forgotten and abused. In these days when nationalism rears its ugly head and tanks roll through the streets of our nation's capital, the story of Hagar reminds the Church that God isn't only a God of Israel, or the United States, or any nation for that matter. No, ours is a God of all nations, all people, and all Creation." Putting It Into Practice So how do we live out the lessons of Hagar's story? Here are some practical steps:
In a world that often feels chaotic and unjust, Hagar's story reminds us of a God who sees, who cares, and who acts on behalf of the marginalized. May we all strive to embody this divine characteristic, seeing and valuing every person we encounter. Have you ever wondered why we struggle to understand each other, even when we speak the same language? The Biblical stories of the Tower of Babel and Pentecost offer profound insights into this human dilemma and point us towards a solution.
The Tale of Two Towers On this Pentecost Sunday, I'd like to take you on a journey through two contrasting stories from the Bible: the Tower of Babel and the day of Pentecost. These narratives, found in Genesis 11:1-9 and Acts 2:1-21 respectively, mirror each other in fascinating ways. In the story of the Tower of Babel, we see a united humanity with a common language. They decide to build a tower "with its top in the heavens" to "make a name for ourselves" (Genesis 11:4). But God intervenes, confusing their language and scattering them across the earth. Fast forward to Pentecost, and we find a diverse group of people suddenly able to understand each other, despite speaking different languages. The Holy Spirit descends, and everyone hears the disciples "speaking about God's deeds of power" in their own native tongue (Acts 2:11). The Purpose Behind the Tower Traditionally, many have interpreted the Babel story as God feeling threatened by human ambition. But I've never found this convincing. Instead, I believe God's concern was with their intention. They wanted to "make a name for themselves" - a self-serving goal rather than one that honored community and unity. There's incredible beauty in people uniting to achieve the seemingly impossible. Think about the eradication of polio, the International Space Station, or the Civil Rights movement. These "high-rise skyscraper" dreams are blessed by God because they benefit our neighbors and create a more just world for everyone. Building Towers That Matter This Pentecost, I believe God is calling us to build different kinds of towers - ones that embrace our diversity rather than fear it. What if we united to create structures that end poverty? What if we worked together to protect our children and marginalized communities from violence? What if we built a society that celebrates the diverse tapestry of our nation? The Divine Architect's Blueprint The people of Babel made a crucial mistake: they outsourced the architect. They had a ready-made Architect available - one with extensive experience building everything in Creation! But they chose a different architect: the architect of their own hubris. But hear me, Church: the Divine Architect has already given us the blueprint, and His name is Jesus Christ. And to help us interpret this blueprint together, God gave us the Holy Spirit. That's what Pentecost is all about. Pentecost reminds us that we need the diversity of Creation to see God in one another. It emphasizes that none of us, on our own, can faithfully understand God, proclaim God, or serve God. We need each other. Life Application: Building Towers of Unity
Remember, the Tower of Babel may have crumbled, but we are blessed with the Spirit of Pentecost to construct new towers - ones that unite neighbors to build pillars that please God for their ability to help instead of harm, to hold instead of hurt, and to bridge the chasms we create between one another. In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may we all become builders of unity. Amen. Have you ever wondered what happens when the walls that divide us come tumbling down? When strangers become friends, oppressors become evangelists, and inmates walk free? It's odd stuff, friends. It's the work of the Gospel.
As we stand on the cusp of significant transitions in our church and community, let us explore how these moments of triumph can inspire us to look beyond our comfort zones and seek out those who may be forgotten. A Time of Transition and Celebration I couldn't be prouder of our congregation at this moment. Over the past few months, we've united in an incredible act of Christian hospitality. As I shared in my sermon, "In just a few hours, we will welcome a group of women from Greensboro Urban Ministry and provide them with food and shelter for the next 90 days." This effort has truly been a labor of love. "You all have come together in an act of Christian unity to get the job done to provide hospitality to our neighbors who are striving for steady employment and stable housing," I noted. It's a tangible expression of the Good News, nourishing both the spirits and bodies of our neighbors. But that's not the only transition we're celebrating. Today, we also honor our graduates – those who have completed high school, college, and university. "Each graduate represents a unique journey filled with challenges and triumphs, and we take pride in their achievements," I emphasized. These milestones are not just personal victories but celebrations for our entire community. Lessons from Paul and Silas: Singing in the Face of Adversity As we consider these transitions, let's turn to the powerful story of Paul and Silas in Acts 16:16-34. These early church leaders found themselves in a dire situation – shackled in a deep, dank prison cell. But their response was extraordinary. I shared in my sermon, "But rather than despair in their incarceration, they dare to sing praises to God! They sang so fervently that the earth itself decided to join in the chorus!" Their faith-filled response led to a miraculous turn of events – an earthquake that broke their chains and opened the prison doors. This story reminds us that even in our darkest moments, we have the power to choose our response. Paul and Silas chose praise, and their decision led to transformation not just for themselves, but also for their jailer. The Importance of Looking Back and Looking Forward In moments of triumph and transition, it's crucial to pause and reflect. As I mentioned, "it's important to give thanks for all that has been done and, just as importantly, to give thanks for all the people who have helped you do it!" But we can't stop at looking back. We must also look forward, recognizing that "there is much work left to be done." This brings us to a critical point in our reflection. Remembering the Forgotten: Who's Missing from Our Story? In the story of Paul and Silas, there is a character who disappears from the narrative – the slave girl whose presence sparked the entire series of events. As I pointed out in my sermon, "There's an uncomfortable reality in today's text: the girl disappears. She's never mentioned again in the Book of Acts." This omission challenges us to look beyond the apparent victories and ask ourselves, "Who is missing?" I emphasized, "Neighbors, as we gather at the Table in just a few minutes, it's important not only to see who is present but also to ask ourselves who is missing. The answer to that question marks the beginning of our discipleship." Life Application: Breaking Down Walls and Seeking the Forgotten As we move forward in our faith journey, let's challenge ourselves to:
Remember, as I said, "The good news, too, is this: that girl, whatever her name may be, is still out there. It's our job to find her. It's our job to welcome her to the table." Let's commit ourselves to this mission, for in seeking out the forgotten, we'll surely find Christ himself. May we continue to pray and sing songs to God, as Paul and Silas did, for there are still many shackles to be broken and walls to be torn down. In doing so, we truly become the Church, embodying the transformative power of the Gospel in our community and beyond. Have you ever caught yourself hesitating to help someone in need? Maybe you've walked past a homeless person, averting your eyes, or questioned the motives of those asking for assistance. If so, you're not alone. But what if we're called to do more?
Recently, our church made a decision that challenged many of us – including myself. We decided to open our doors to people experiencing homelessness. When I first heard this, I'll admit, I thought, "Pastor Stephen, you've lost your mind." But this knee-jerk reaction brought me shame and forced me to confront some uncomfortable truths about myself and our society. The Stigma of Homelessness Society has taught us to be wary of those experiencing homelessness. We're often led to believe that "these people are either liars or lazy or have ill intentions." But I had to ask myself: "What does whether or not someone has a place to sleep have to do with a person's character?" This realization reminded me of Jesus' ministry. He never sought out the well-to-do people. Instead, His ministry was directed to "the poor, the downtrodden, the outcasts of society." We are called to follow Jesus' example, to reach out a helping hand to those who need it most. The Power of Giving A story from a Masonic brother perfectly illustrates this point. After giving money to a homeless man, another brother criticized him, saying the man would just buy liquor. His response was profound: "Perhaps he will, but that's not what I will be judged for. I will be judged because I gave when I was able to." This echoes the sentiment in Psalm 109:21, which says, "But you, O my Lord, act on my behalf for your name's sake, because your steadfast love is good. Deliver me." We're called to act on behalf of others, to show God's love through our actions. Jesus' Example of Compassion In John 5:1-9, we see Jesus demonstrating this principle. At the pool of Bethesda, Jesus approaches a man who had been ill for 38 years. Without being asked, Jesus offers healing, saying, "Stand up, take your mat and walk" (John 5:8). This story teaches us that we shouldn't wait for people to approach us for help. Sometimes, we need to take the initiative, just as Jesus did. We may not be able to perform miracles, but we can still change someone's life through acts of kindness and support. Small Acts, Big Impact "We are most certainly not miracle workers," I told my congregation. "You and I cannot cure illnesses or homelessness with just a simple word, but we can still change someone's life." Even a kind word or a smile can improve someone's day, especially for those who are often treated as outcasts. But we can do more. We can supply food, water, shelter, or money. We can volunteer our time. As I reminded my congregation, "However we're enabled to by our own skills, it is within our power to change the world for our fallen brothers and sisters. We must simply reach out the helping hand when we are able to." Life Application: Putting Compassion into Action
As we embark on this journey of opening our church to those experiencing homelessness, I'm reminded of Jesus' words in Matthew 25:40: "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Let us go forth each day "invigorated and ready to help up our fallen siblings." May we all say, with open and helping hands, Amen. Dreaming of a New Heaven and Earth: How God's Vision Shapes Our Mission (By Tony De La Rosa)5/19/2025 Have you ever had a dream that felt so real, so vivid, that it changed the way you saw the world? Or perhaps you've experienced a moment of clarity that shifted your entire perspective on life? As I stood before the congregation at Guilford Park, I found myself reflecting on the power of dreams and visions – not just in our personal lives, but in the very fabric of our faith.
When Dreams Become Divine Inspiration I began my sermon with an apology for a mistake I had made in a report. I had attributed a Star Wars-themed Youth Sunday to the wrong church, and despite my efforts to correct it, I couldn't find the source of this information. But then, a thought struck me: "Perhaps I dreamed the whole thing up, but then again, dreams are powerful things and maybe my mistake was not a mistake at all, but instead meant to communicate something other than a band of youth having fun with a cinematic craze. Maybe, maybe, just maybe, I was divinely inspired." This seemingly small error led me to contemplate the significant role that dreams and visions have played in shaping our faith. It reminded me of a pivotal moment in the early church, recounted in Acts 11:1-18. Peter's Vision: Breaking Down Barriers The Apostle Peter faced criticism for associating with Gentiles, a practice that went against the Jewish customs of the time. In response, Peter shared a powerful vision he had received: "I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners, and it came close to me. As I looked at it closely, I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles and birds of the air. I also heard a voice saying to me Get up, Peter, kill and eat." (Acts 11:5-7) This vision challenged Peter's understanding of what was clean and unclean, ultimately leading to a profound realization: God's love and salvation were meant for all people, not just the Jews. Peter concluded, "If, then, God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?" (Acts 11:17) The Impact of Expanding Our Faith This expansion of faith beyond Jewish-identified believers had far-reaching consequences. As I explained in my sermon: "Were it not for Peter's dream that allowed Christian witness to expand beyond the meeting point of Asia and Africa, Europe would probably still be drinking blood out of the skulls of the vanquished. The expansion of our faith to the Gentiles allowed most of us to be here today proclaiming Jesus, who lived as a Jewish man in Roman-occupied Palestine, who conquered death, as a living Christ to save the entire world." Envisioning a New Heaven and Earth Just as Peter's vision changed the course of early Christianity, the Apostle John's vision in Revelation 21:1-6 offers hope and inspiration for believers facing persecution and hardship. John's powerful words paint a picture of a future where God's presence is fully realized among His people: "Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from out of heaven, from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." (Revelation 21:1-2) Living Out God's Vision Today As Presbyterians, we are called to live out this vision of a new heaven and earth in our daily lives and in our mission work. Our faith compels us to maintain a balance between loving God and loving our neighbors. This commitment to mission is a core part of our Presbyterian identity. In the face of changing realities, our mission must evolve to meet new needs. I commended the congregation at Guilford Park for their summer sheltering program, saying: "You are living into the call to bring about the day when no one knows the suffering of being without basic shelter, being in a place to experience belonging. I have learned that homelessness represents first and foremost a failure of community, the fraying of ties to family and friends, to the point where the most basic safety net is lost." Putting It Into Practice As we reflect on the power of dreams and visions in our faith, let's consider how we can apply these lessons to our own lives and communities:
In conclusion, let us be inspired by the dreams and visions that have shaped our faith throughout history. May we, like Peter and John, be open to God's guidance as we work to bring about His kingdom on earth. As I said in my sermon, "You are offering and proclaiming by your new mission commitment what the movie and our scriptures foretold: a new hope. May it be so. Amen." Have you ever paused to consider the profound impact certain individuals have had on your life? Those special people who, through their actions and love, have shaped you into the person you are today? As we approach Mother's Day, it's an opportune time to reflect on the "Tabithas" in our lives – those who have loved us into being, as Mr. Rogers would say.
The Story of Tabitha: A Disciple of Good Works In the Book of Acts, we encounter a remarkable woman named Tabitha, also known as Dorcas. Acts 9:36 introduces her as "a disciple who was always doing good and helping the poor." This simple description speaks volumes about her character and the impact she had on her community. Tabitha's story takes a dramatic turn when she falls ill and dies. The community, grief-stricken by her loss, sends for the apostle Peter. Upon his arrival, we witness a touching scene that reveals the depth of Tabitha's influence: "All the widows stood around him, crying and showing him the robes and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was still with them" (Acts 9:39). This moment is particularly poignant. These women, in their time of mourning, chose to showcase the tangible evidence of Tabitha's love and service. It prompts us to ask ourselves: What would we offer as evidence of the positive influence someone has had in our lives? What token of appreciation would we present to those around us as a testament to how that person has loved us into being? Personal Testimonies of Modern-Day Tabithas In my own life, I've been blessed with several "Tabithas" who have profoundly impacted me. One such person was my dear friend and mentor, Michael Morgan, who passed away on Christmas Eve 2022. Michael was the seminary organist at Columbia Theological Seminary, and he played a crucial role in nurturing my love for hymn writing. As a testament to his influence, I cherish a book of Psalms printed in London in 1626. This psalter, which will celebrate its 400th birthday next year, was a gift from Michael. Every time I open our purple hymnal, which includes a dozen of his hymns, I'm reminded of the impact he made on my life and all that he showed me about the love of Christ. Another touching example comes from our very own congregation. Carolyn Sherrick shared with me a beautiful quilt made by her children and families to celebrate her late husband Dick's 90th birthday. Each square of the quilt was crafted from a different t-shirt representing something about Dick – his alma mater, family vacation spots, and other significant locations throughout their 70+ years of marriage. This quilt serves as a tangible reminder of the love Dick shared with his family over the decades. Identifying Your Tabitha I invite you to take a moment and reflect: Who is your Tabitha? What evidence do you have – material or otherwise – that reminds you of how God's love was made manifest through them? Perhaps it's a parent who sacrificed everything to give you opportunities they never had. Maybe it's a teacher who believed in you when no one else did. Or it could be a friend who stood by you during your darkest hours. Whoever your Tabitha is, take time to acknowledge their impact on your life and give thanks for the way they've shown you God's love. Becoming a Tabitha for Others As we give thanks for the Tabithas among us, let's remember this indelible truth of the life of faith: the love of God that flowed through them to us is the same love we can share with others today and in the days to come. Just as Peter went from being an observer of Jesus' miracles to performing them himself, we too are called to move from being recipients of love to becoming agents of God's love in the world. We are Tabitha when we prepare meals for those who are ill. We are Tabitha when our church community comes together to offer shelter to the homeless who seek refuge in our space. We are Tabitha when we create prayer shawls for those in mourning. We are Tabitha when we extend our welcome to neurodivergent children, LGBTQIA+ neighbors, and everyone across the political spectrum, from liberal to conservative! Life Application: Putting Tabitha's Example into Practice
As we celebrate Mother's Day and reflect on all the faithful women who have shaped our lives, let us give thanks for the Tabithas among us, through whom we have heard the voice of Jesus, our Good Shepherd. And may we, in turn, become Tabithas for others, representing the risen Christ to restore hope in places where it feels absent. In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God's children, say: Amen. Have you ever felt that nervous flutter in your stomach when faced with a new responsibility? That mix of excitement and anxiety that comes with stepping out of your comfort zone? As your pastor, I want to share a story that beautifully illustrates this feeling and challenges us to embrace it for the sake of serving others.
Breakfast on the Beach One of my favorite stories in the Bible is found in John 21:1-19. It's a story about Peter, a disciple who knew a thing or two about stepping—or in this case, jumping—out of boats. After Jesus' resurrection, Peter and some other disciples went fishing. They caught nothing all night. Then, at daybreak, a figure on the shore called out to them: "Children, you have no fish, have you?" When they answered no, he said, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some." (John 21:5-6) They did, and suddenly their nets were full. That's when they realized it was Jesus. What happened next is a beautiful picture of grace and restoration: "When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, 'Come and have breakfast.'" (John 21:9-12) Imagine Peter's anxiety as he approached Jesus, still dripping from his impulsive swim to shore. The last time he had been near a charcoal fire, he had denied knowing Jesus three times. But instead of condemnation, Jesus offered breakfast and grace. A Call to Follow After breakfast, Jesus asked Peter three times, "Do you love me?" Each time Peter affirmed his love, Jesus responded with a command: "Feed my lambs," "Tend my sheep," "Feed my sheep." (John 21:15-17) Then Jesus said something that must have made Peter nervous: "Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go." (John 21:18) Jesus was telling Peter that true discipleship often requires discomfort and can demand significant sacrifice. And then he said two simple words that would change everything: "Follow me." (John 21:19) Stepping Out as a Church Friends, I believe Jesus is calling our church to step out of our comfort zone just like Peter did. Last week, our Session voted to approve a recommendation to use our church basement as temporary shelter for a dozen men experiencing homelessness this summer. I've never been prouder of this congregation. Many churches would have found reasons to say no. But we chose to say yes. We're making this choice not because it's the easiest path, but because it's the right one. How Can We Respond? Jesus is turning to us and saying, "Guilford Park, do you love me?" For 77 years, this church has answered just as Peter did, "Yes, Jesus, you know that we love you." Now, Jesus is giving us three verbs in response: feed, tend, and follow. Here are some concrete ways we can embody these verbs:
Christ in Our Midst As a Matthew 25 church, we take seriously Jesus' words: "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me." (Matthew 25:40) This summer, we have the opportunity to welcome Christ himself into our church. It might feel uncomfortable. It might require sacrifice. But that's what following Jesus is all about. So, Guilford Park, are we ready to step out of the boat? Are we ready to feed, tend, and follow? Together, let's be the argument for Christ, for justice, and for radical neighborliness in a world that desperately needs it. In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God's neighbors, say: Amen. |
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